


flowers grow from my skin

by clairo



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Unrequited Love, american spelling bc fuck u thats why, flower symbolism, i spent so long on this i hope its good shgjh, its super dan centric btw, theres dialogue between them dw!!!!, this is......the saddest fic ive ever written im sorry T - T
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairo/pseuds/clairo
Summary: i love you, dan wants to weep, i love you and it's killing me.





	flowers grow from my skin

_i'm dying._ it finally settles in when there's flower petals sticking to dan's throat and drool dripping off his tongue. his fingers grip the toilet bowl, white spreading across his knuckles and _god_ , it burns. his lungs feel like they’re on fire, torn right down the middle.

he pulls his legs to his chest, wiping his lips on the knees of his jeans. hanahaki was supposed to be beautiful, but he isn't. he's messy, and too ruined for anyone's good. the tiled floor is chilling against his clammy palms as he pushes himself off the ground, black spreading across his vision like spilled paint.

dan wants a beautiful love story, more than anything.

 

his mother once told him at the age of 10, that it's pure chance, they'll love you or they won't. _but you'll never know if you don't confess your dear little heart._

 _what happens if they don't?_ he had asked.

she whispered softly, sweeping away his curls, _they will, bear. they will._

 

he knew someone, back in 9th grade, who started violently coughing up purple lilacs in the middle of maths class. she was pretty, and too naive for her own good. with the way she looked at her friend, dan figured out who she had fallen for. a few days later, he caught them a little too close in the cafeteria, talking to each other like there was no one else in the world. she looked happy.

 

_lilacs - first love; youthful innocence_

 

dan cried the first time he realized he had hanahaki. he cried for days, scooping up blood stained daffodil petals and stuffing them in the trash bin where phil couldn’t see. _this isn’t supposed to happen_ , he silently begged into clasped hands, _please, god, make it go away._

 

_daffodil - unrequited love_

 

it’s 11th grade when dan is sat in front of his friend’s tv, thumbs pressing quickly at the ps2 controller. soda is still bubbling on his tongue late into the night, with just the two of them in his friend’s basement.

when dan pauses the video game to get more soda, he feels a hand tug him back to the shag carpet.

“wait,” ian said almost desperately.

“what?”

“first, you have to swear you won't tell anyone, especially amber.” he looked deathly serious, an expression dan didn’t associate with him.

dan pursed his lips, unsure what to say already. the atmosphere seemed to change completely, 8bit music playing quietly in the background, a lamp in the corner harshly lighting the room.

“yeah, fine.”

ian stares at the controller in his lap for a moment before finally speaking up, dissolving some of the uneasiness dan felt in the silence between them.

“what would you do if you really, really liked someone but you couldn’t ever tell them no matter what?”

it catches dan so off guard, he ends up pausing and contemplating an answer. “i don’t know…”

“me either.” ian mumbled, picking at the hangnails on his fingers. “i’m afraid to say goodbye to my dad.”

“holy shit,” dan blurted out in surprise, cringing inwardly at the curt reaction. trying to gather an actual response, he manages to say, “why can’t you tell her?”

“it’s hard to explain. i don’t think you’d understand.”

“oh.”

 

he never did understand why he couldn’t just tell her. he still didn’t understand when he was next to his friend’s coffin mere weeks after ian confessed. dan watched amber weep into her best friend’s shoulder, and he swallows the urge to tell her himself. ian’s father sits alone, twisting an old wedding ring on his finger. dan doesn’t sleep for a long time, the question ian asked that night, repeating itself until he feels like clawing his brain out.

he doesn’t wanna know the answer.

 

(one day, he understands.)

 

after the funeral, his mother had asked him a question, one that would stay with him just as long.

_promise to give me a happy ending?_

 

he had completely and hopelessly fallen for phil, with those ocean eyes staring back at him and the most beautiful smile dan had ever seen. he never wanted to look away, to see anything else but. he felt like a silly schoolgirl with too many daydreams stuck in her head.

but phil didn’t look at him the same way, he didn’t wonder what dan’s lips would taste like, and he didn’t spend hours crying over him, into the palm of his hands, after the clock had struck 12 hours ago. phil simply didn’t love dan the way he wanted him to, but he still loved him and dan had to let that be enough.

 

it wasn't enough because he’s still vomiting flowers into the sink at 3am, gasping for air when the flowers won't let him breathe. dan can feel the vines growing through his veins, wrapping around his heart until it pops like bubblegum.

 

my pretty boy, dan thinks sadly, so oblivious.

 

the blinds are drawn shut, a dark hue casted over the apartment. lukewarm coffee sits on the table as the tv plays their most recent anime binge. exhaustion buries itself in dan’s skull, a thick fog buzzing in his ears. his voice raspy and strained and phil’s noticed. his brows furrow in concern the rare times dan talks, offering cough medicine and water.

“no,” he forces out, “it wouldn’t do anything for me anyway.”

dan listens to the humming of phil’s heart, like it’s the only thing he wants to hear. he wants to bury himself in phil’s chest, quietly rising and falling with each breath. phil shifts, awaking dan out of his vaguely asleep state. he only slightly raises his head as phil grabs his mug, taking a sip, and mumbling, “cold coffee actually tastes good. i don't understand why people dump it out.”

“because it’s disgusting, phil,” dan retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, i like it.” phil smiles, settling back on the armrest. his voice vibrates against dan’s ear, loud and fuzzy.

sunlight peeks through the curtains, gently painting the features of phil’s face and dan’s honey brown eyes. (he described it that way once, and dan’s heart fluttered for days.)

 

he imagines, in a parallel universe, he had the guts to tell his best friend. he imagines in that universe, his best friend smiles and kisses him, i love you too! they’re in love, sweet and sincere, and nothing can change that.

except that’s not his universe.

it’s another silly daydream, and that’s all it will be. left untouched in the quietest corner of his brain, an idea undone.

“hey, what are you thinking about?”

“nothing.” he can't help but grin. (he’s only a good liar when he really wants to be.) “why do you wanna know?”

“you always have that one specific look whenever you’re daydreaming. i want to know what they’re about.”

dan laughs at phil’s accurate observation. “it's a secret.”

“and i don’t know all your secrets already?”

he winks. “almost.”

phil pouts, and dan imagines himself kissing it away. his imagination was always his worst enemy, wasn't it?

 

he’s deteriorating, and phil won't stop asking questions even if he already knows the answers.

dan uses tape to hold himself together, always has, but the pieces are falling off and he’s all out of tape (and phil can't give him any).

“tell me, please, tell me,” phil begs him, wiping away dan’s thick tears with his thumbs. “why are you so sad?”

 

because i love you, dan wants to weep, i love you and it’s killing me.

 

“do you have hanahaki?” phil asks one night, tucking a greasy curl behind dan’s ear. “is that why you won't tell me?”

he doesn’t respond but phil can still hear him.

 

“i’m sorry,” phil cries when dan can barely speak anymore, invisible claws streaking down the inside of his throat. “i’m so sorry, i really am.”

“it’s okay,” he whispers, pain ringing in his chest, “i forgive you. i always will.”

they sit like that for a long time, backs against the wall of their bathroom, shoulders connected. the floor is cold and unforgiving, harsh against their gentle skin.

 

hanahaki isn’t beautiful, no, it’s bitter, and bloody, and the flowers are just a sick joke. it's romanticized torture porn, a game where the rules are be loved or die. there's pretty flowers in his lungs, but they're suffocating him.

maybe he was never meant to have a happy ending. maybe he was meant to be curled up on the floor of his room, sobbing into his knees as red saliva pools onto the carpet. each breath is a rattling wheeze, such an ugly song compared to phil’s heartbeat against his ear. he's dying, and he's dying alone. that's his ending, tragic and lonely.

 

_i promise._

 

dan loved phil with everything he had, and it killed him.

 

_cyclamen - resignation; goodbye_

**Author's Note:**

> this is uuhh super sad im sorry but im glad i finally finished a dnp fic... anywayz hope u liked it!! 
> 
> follow my [tumblr](http://wiinnie.tumblr.com) i promise im funny 
> 
> title: bubble gum - clairo  
> this was kinda inspired by this [rly beautiful fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11757564) mine isnt nearly as good tho (pls dont compare T T)


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